Wilde At Large
by VVizrrd
Summary: Join James Wilde and his right-hand squirrel Donald Treever as they travel the world, from Zootopia to Zoo York and across the sea! From the day of his release from the Zootopian Armed Forces, this story follows the young fox's journey, seeking out charming vixen, picking fights, and leaving trouble for everyone in his wake! (This is a prequel to the Case of Robert Jacks)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: James Piberius Wilde

* * *

James Wilde was born the youngest of three in his litter, and the smaller of the two brothers. Right from birth, James and Nicholas were practically the same fox, sharing everything except a forename. And when they reached the age where fox kits inevitably start getting into trouble, they always got into trouble together, always to be scolded by their mother as well as the eldest of the litter, their sister Samantha.

It wasn't until Nick found interest in something that James held no desire to be a part of- the Junior Ranger Scouts- that the pair started to grow apart. The day Nick brought home the flyer from the school bulletin board, James took one look at it and called it a stupid idea. "They'll never let a fox in," he'd insisted. "And even if they did, they'd never actually look at you as one of them." It lead to a heated argument, Nick digging in about all the times they'd been told to try and better themselves, and James raving about how much _fun_ they always had getting into trouble. It ended when Nick slammed the door to their shared room in James' face, and James stormed out of the house in a tantrum.

When it turned out that James had been _right_ about the Junior Ranger Scouts, the wedge between them was driven firmly in place. The two avoided each other whenever possible, and when they had to be in the same place, they said next to nothing and avoided any kind of contact. It was a few years before Nick ran away from home and met Finnick, and so began twenty of what Nick would call the best years of his life.

James, however, did not have the luxury of a mentor, someone to teach him the noble vulpine art of slipping out of trouble. Where his brother lived a semi-affluent life of conmanship, James lived life just for thrills. By the time he was halfway through high school, his father had bailed him out of jail three times and he'd served seventy-four total hours of court-ordered community service. It all came to a peak when, in his senior year, he was arrested for joyriding and destruction of public property. He'd stolen a delivery truck from a bakery and crashed it into a hundred-year-old statue in Zootopia National Library's front courtyard.

Given his prior record, James was sentenced eighteen months in prison. Or, he could serve six years in the army. And so, a couple months shy of 18 years old, James Wilde swore his enlistment oath. When the day came for him to board the bus halfway across the country for basic training, Nick stood among the crowd of mammals wishing their families best luck. The brothers embraced for the first time in years, and both were quick and eager to apologize for all the bad times between them.

James spent nine weeks in basic training, then was slated for AIT as a medic. He spent four months more learning all the ins-and-outs of treating a combat casualty. It was almost laughable. After all the shit he'd given Nick for wanting to do something to help people, his life purpose had become doing just that.

Six years passed. These accounted for some of the best and some of the worst times in James' life. When it came time for him to exit service, he knew he'd never be the same fox that had stepped onto that bus.

* * *

"Corporal Wilde, I was afraid I'd be seeing you in here today. Shut the door, please. Take a seat."

Fully stepping into the office of Major Diana Urso, the battalion retention officer, James let the door shot behind him and pulled himself up onto the oversized seat. Oversized for a fox, at least. It would've been ridiculously small for the Kodiak bear seated across from him. "I'm afraid we both saw this coming, Ma'am. There's really no way we could avoid it."

"You could reenlist, perhaps?"

James chuckled, and shook his head. Major Urso had been his company commander until her promotion three years ago. She knew him well enough to be sure he had no intention of signing on for further service. He was pretty sure she'd meant it as a joke, but with her, one could never actually be too sure. "The first six years were pressed on me by a judge, Ma'am. Honestly, I don't know if that judge is even still there, and it's nothing personal, but it'd take another court order to get me to re-up.

Taking a deep breath- which with her size, was enough to rattle the table- Major Urso looked down and flicked open his file with one extended claw. "That's very unfortunate, Wilde. You're one hell of a medic. Not that great of an actual soldier, granted, but one hell of a medic all the same."

James shrugged and, with a slanted smirk, remarked, "What can I say? I'm better with my hands than with my shoulders. And in all honesty, those hands are tired of filling out paperwork for the sake of military bureaucracy. Thought I'd give it a shot applying them elsewhere."

"Can't say I fault you for that," the Major grumbled, applying a few cautious signatures with a pen held between two massive fingers. "Don't suppose you've planned out where you're gonna go once I finish up with this?"

After a contemplative moment, James mused, "I was thinking I'd head back to Zootopia for a little while… Not long, a couple weeks I think… Then I'll probably head out, see the world without gunfire."

"Right. I hear it's much nicer to travel without all the explosions." She met his eye with a quick grin, then closed his folder, picked up a stamp and pressed it down on the cover. Right under his name, it now read, 'Service Complete'. "CAC card, please." James reached into his pocket and pulled out his military ID, handing it over. She slipped it into a slot in the corner of her keyboard, and tapped a few keys. The printer nearby spat out a few forms, which she collected and stapled together. She turned to the back page and signed the bottom line, then handed it over to him. "Sign here, and you're a free mammal. Any questions?"

"Just one," James replied, taking the packet and attaching his signature on the line just above hers. "Any idea where Lieutenant Treever's been staying?"

Major Urso took back the forms and slipped them into his packet, and answered, "I can get you that information."

* * *

"Donnie! Open up!" James called out, banging on the small hotel room door. It was still kind of early in the morning- he figured it for a little past eight- but Donald had been a soldier just as long as he had. And anyway, James was supposed to be a nocturnal mammal. His best friend didn't have that excuse.

James waited a little while. No answer. Silence inside. With a little growl, he reached up and banged on the door again. "Wake up, Nuts! No way you're skipping out on me already!"

This time, there was a slight shuffling behind the door after a moment. The knob turned, the door cracked open, and a tree squirrel peeked out from the gloom. "What the hell, Jimmy?" Donald Treever had finished out his contract just over a month ago. He'd reached their unit just a short while before James, and had been a cadet at the time. When James showed up, they'd struck a quick friendship. Where the fox was the embodiment of sarcasm, the squirrel was snark. And when it had come time for Donnie to end his contract, they'd struck a deal to head back to Zootopia together.

"Hey, don't give me that, short stuff, I've been in a bureaucratic hellhole for the last month, while you've been sitting around her…" Pushing his way past the half-open door, James grinned. "Playing shooters and ordering pizza, looks like. Not a bad month." He dropped down on the hotel mattress and grabbed up the controller, unpausing a game that he figured Donnie had put on hold the night before. It didn't take him long to get Donnie's character killed, and he handed the controller back with a grin.

"Thanks," the squirrel murmured dryly, snatching the controller back. "Only twenty minutes back to the last checkpoint. Half of that's dialogue, too. Why the hell didn't they put in a skip function…?"

"Because they like the thought of squirrels having to sit still and wait," James answered. "As if this squirrel ever needed an excuse to do nothing," he added, giving his friend a little punch on the shoulder.

"Alright, so… What's the plan?" Donnie asked, grabbing a cold slice of olive and banana pepper pizza from the freshest box.

"You got your ticket, yeah?"

"Yeah. Got here last week. Thought you'd want a little more time to get ready, ya know?"

"Why wait?" James asked with a big grin. "I've been MIA from my own personal stomping ground six years already, another day is too long. Bags are packed, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah…" Donnie murmured, letting out a tired groan. "Fuck it, I'll rewatch this later…" He shut down his game and went around the TV to pull out the cables. "Just gotta get my system in the bag… Got a cab on the way?"

"Got a cab already here. Waiting in the parking lot. Hurry up, Nuts, flight leaves at noon."

* * *

James had picked up a set of civilian clothes a few days before, and changed into them while Donnie finished packing. Just a dark green shirt that said 'Mountain Don't', but he wore his olive-green army jacket over it, and a pair of tan shorts, and as they were heading for security to board the flight, he saw a hat in a shop window he just couldn't pass up. A straw fedora with a green band; it was perfect for him. He popped into the store and grabbed that before heading through the scanner.

From there, they had a half-hour wait before boarding. Donnie hadn't given himself a chance to get hungry, what with all the empty pizza boxes he'd left in the hotel room, but Nick hadn't had a chance to really eat since last night, so he got an overpriced cheap fish sandwich to sate his appetite while they waited. Donnie was playing Snake on his phone.

James was leaning back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, when the boarding light came on above the bridge. A meercat standing on the podium leaned into the microphone to say, "Now boarding flight 2072 to Zootopia."

"That's us," James stated, quickly standing up and grabbing his bag. Donnie scrambled to follow him as he quickly got in line to cross onto the plane. Before long they were at the front of the line, the meercat checked their boarding passes, and then they were on the plane. "Let's see… 22… 23… 24C. This one's me." He grinned, and reached up to put his back in the overhead. "I think you're back there," he added. While he fit into the mid-small size mammal category, Donnie was barely half his size and fit firmly among the small mammals. The squirrel looked back, then shrugged and shuffled toward the back of the plane.

It took another half-hour for the plane to finish boarding, then twenty minutes more for them to reach there queue for take-off. The passenger gave his little dialogue, and the head stewardess gave her standard safety presentation. James did a really good job of ignoring all of it. Once she was done, they lined up on the runway. The plane started to roll forward, picked up speed, the flaps on the wings folded to add lift and they were off.

Apart from take-off, James had expected it to be a boring flight. He didn't have much of anything to do, and it was a smaller plane, so they only had three TV monitors set up along the middle of the isle. He could hear the movie they were playing, but couldn't see much of it. It wasn't one really worth watching anyway.

Fifteen minutes in, however, a stewardess made her way down the lane, taking drink requests. She was a rather pretty vixen, and her nametag read 'Nera'. What caught James' attention, though, was a small pin she had attached to the end of her left sleeve. At a glance, it appeared to be a red crescent moon wrapped halfway around a star. On closer inspection, the crescent was actually a fox tail.

"Good afternoon sir," Nera greeted when she reached his row. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Rum and coke, please. I like your pin, by the way," he added with a wink.

"Oh?" Nera asked, a little surprised. She looked at the pin on her sleeve, then back to him, a mischievous smile spreading across her muzzle. She leaned over her cart and, after a little while, handed him his drink, with a napkin that read, 'Left mid-small bathroom 10 minutes'.

James grinned, and watched as Nera moved on down the isle. The pin wasn't actually that spectacular, but what it represented was. It was the symbol of Captain Tail, the hero of a cheap TV show that had run for a single season back in the 80s. The show had been rendered from some C-list comics, badly written, and cheaply performed. No one thought it was good, and no vixen wore that pin because she liked the show. The deeper meaning had to do with the main character. One very big defining characteristic about him- probably the thing that had got the show canceled, apart from bad writing and ridiculously cheesy effects- was that Captain Tail was polyamorous. Wearing that pin was a safe and discreet way for a vixen to show that she was open for some illicit encounters with no strings attached.

Slowly, James sipped his drink, watching the little digital clock in the corner of the nearest TV monitor tick. Time passed, as it usually does, minute by minute, until it had been the full ten. Finishing off his drink, James stood up and made his way back to the lavatories. The one on the left showed 'occupied'. He knocked. After a moment, Nera peeked out, grinned and grabbed his collar, quickly pulling him in and shutting the door behind her. He heard the lock slide shut once more.

From there, things got a little frantic, and extremely heated. The bathroom was set up for mammals about their size, so there wasn't a lot of room to work with. Nera would also have limited time before she had to get back, so they had to be quick about this.

The didn't take the time to fully undress. Grabbing up clothes and getting them back on would be near-impossible in such tight quarters. Instead, James reached around Nera's waist, his paws grabbing at her backside. He gave a squeeze, and lifted her up onto the edge of the sink, drawing a surprised but excited little gasp from her. The vixen's supple legs wrapped around his waist, and her hands quickly reached down, expertly parting the button and fly of his shorts. He took that time to push her skirt further up her legs, and buried his muzzle into the fur along the side of her neck. He took her scent, and bit softly, eliciting a soft whimper.

Then she had him free of his shorts, one paw drawing up and down his member. "Mmm, this is a nice one…" she purred. "Been… Way too long…"

"Heh… Yeah, me too," James growled faintly, rolling his hips a little against the motion of her paw.

"Just, uh… Well, don't knot me. I mean… I'm safe, but, well, I can't really be stuck in here an extra ten."

"Come on, baby, I'm not new," James chuckled. He reached down and freed himself from her grasp, and started to line up. He brought his muzzle over her neck and bit down again, his sharp fangs digging through her fur to press into the soft skin beneath. She gasped, and covered her lips with a paw to keep her voice down. He let out a low growl against her throat, and drove forward, sinking most of his shaft into her.

Nera barely managed to contain the cry threatening to rise from her throat, tossing her head back with a shudder as he began to drive into her. He hadn't lied; it had been a while since he'd had an opportunity like this. It was pretty clear Nera needed this just as much, though. Pressing his hips into hers, rolling and rocking against her, he could feel the heat of her, he could feel her sweet wetness drawing out, coating his shaft and seeping into his fur. His teeth sank in further, drawing little beads of blood, and he drew a paw up, trailing the claw along the back of her ear. She flinched, shivered, reached out for whatever she could grab for support. One hand grabbed the paper towel rack, the other pressing against the far wall, her lithe frame rocking and swaying with each thrust he made into her. "I, ahh…. That's it…. Right _therrrrreeeeee!"_ Nera hissed out, quickly building up then letting loose, her legs tightening around his waist, her paws reaching around his shoulder to pull him against her.

"H-hey, Nera, I…. Let go," James groaned. Nera took the hint quickly, and with an effort, loosened her legs and let him draw out. She quickly pushed him back onto the toilet and knelt down in front of him, took him into her maw. Her lips wrapped around his knot, and with a deep groan, he let go and poured himself down her throat.

Once they'd both caught their breath, they took a few minutes more to get cleaned up, and James helped her make sure her uniform was in good order. Nera left first, since she had a job to do, and five minutes later, James made his way back to seat, more than satisfied, and decided he'd take a nap before they reached Zootopia.

* * *

 **Woo! That took some time to write. My gift to you; sweet, steamy, airline bathroom smut. Keep in mind, this does not set the pace for the story as a whole. Yes, there will be more sex scenes here and there, but it should only be one or two every few chapters. Can't give you an exact number right now, since I don't have any more written out yet, but moving forward… Figure on every five or six chapters. That seems a safe bet.**

 **And what do you think of James Wilde and Donald Treever so far? Those of you following my other story have kinda been introduced to James, but this goes a lot deeper into his character. Please, your reviews will be a huge help, so if you've got something you wanna get said, get it said. And stay classy. ;)**

 **-VV**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Samantha Wilde

* * *

"Thank you for flying Air Zootopia… Thank you for flying Air Zootopia… Thank you for flying Air Zootopia..." At the front of the plane, Nera stood, giving the standard salutation to each passenger as they disembarked. When she saw James approaching, she less-than-subtly brushed her bangs back behind her ear, gave him a coy smile and said, "Thank you for flying with us, Mr. Wilde. _'We'_ hope you'll consider us for all your future trips."

James could tell by the way she said it that 'we' really meant 'I', and with a broad grin, he winked and replied, "You'll certainly be my first consideration any time I fly." As he passed by, he leaned a little closer and whispered, "And thanks for the sex," his grin spreading as Nera suddenly got very shy and quickly addressed the next passenger.

Once he got out to the terminal, James waited a little while for Donnie to make it out from his further-back compartment. "What'd you do to the stewardess, Jim?" the squirrel asked right away. "And don't deny shit, way she's looking and that shit-eating grin you got, had to be you."

"You think I'd kiss and tell?" James replied, placing a paw over his heart and shaking his head. When the squirrel rolled his eyes, James decided to add, "I _would_ like to declare that the mid-small lavatory is not a very easy place to move around in, though."

Grinning at the surprised stare he got from his friend, the fox turned on his heel and proceeded past security and down the escalator to baggage claim. On the way, he got his first glimpse in six years of the city he'd once called home. Though Zootopia International was in the Savannah Central uptown district, an area he'd never spent much time in growing up, he could tell that in his time away, very little had changed. Maybe the streets were freshly paved, the parking meters had been replaced, a couple things had been repainted, but for the most part it was exactly the same city he'd left when he'd enlisted.

Donnie, however, had never been to Zootopia. He'd grown up in Manytrees, a much smaller city way up north, with a population of about a hundred thousand, mostly squirrels. Donnie even claimed his third cousin was the mayor. That didn't seem like a big deal to James, but Donnie insisted that extended family was very important among squirrel culture.

So when the tree squirrel set eyes on the busy streets of Zootopia from the high walkway window, he was momentarily speechless. Though James and Donnie had spent many nights drinking together, and the fox almost always turned to tales of growing up in the big city, nothing could have truly prepared the squirrel for this. In his hometown, things had always been a little hectic. That was to be expected with thousands of squirrels all in one place. But it was nothing compared to this, to the multitude of mammals all different shapes, sizes, colors, all moving about in some staggeringly complex routine that seemed to come all too naturally to them. If it wasn't for his friend watching out for him, he'd have stepped onto the escalator completely unaware and tumbled all the way down. James' paw on the scruff of his neck was all that saved him that embarrassment.

"Do you… _Actually_ get used to stuff like this?" Donnie asked as they rode the moving stairs down. "I mean… It's a lot to take in. How to you keep track of all of it?"

"Honestly? I don't." James chuckled, staring down into the crowd milling about the ground floor. "You can do pretty well around here if you learn to compartmentalize. Don't worry about everything, focus on the stuff that pertains to you. Let the other stuff fade into the background, just plan your route forward and follow it. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast, right? Keep calm, you don't have to rush about. Step back from the big picture, watch individuals, see what they do. Keep your eyes on one mammal at a time, you'll find they're actually going pretty slow. Practice that, you'll learn to work it all together before long. But most important, always consider where _you're_ going first." He looked back at his friend, then nudged his head in the direction of the baggage claim carousel, and set off through the crowd.

This time, rather than trying to look at everything at once, Donnie simply focused on the red fox ahead of him. He traced James' route through the herd, only occasionally deviating from the path when another mammal crossed right behind where James had just been. He started to see what the fox meant; He wasn't moving very quickly, not even reaching an army marching pace, really, but that didn't stop him from covering ground through the mass of mammals quickly and efficiently. Before Donnie knew it, they were at the baggage claim, and James was quickly scanning back and forth in an effort to identify his bag. Donnie followed suit, and before too long he managed to spot his little green duffel squeezed between two larger suitcases.

It wasn't long before the duo stepped out onto the sidewalk, and taking the lead once more, James hailed a cab. An amiable looking tomcat in a smallish yellow car pulled up almost immediately, and James opened the door, letting Donnie get in before sliding in himself and closing the door. "Where to, boys?" the cabbie asked simply.

James didn't even take a moment to think about it. "812 Lowgrass Circle, in the Meadowlands." It was time for a family visit.

* * *

Samantha Wilde had been up most of the night, almost until dawn actually, determined to put in the finishing touches on her paper. It wasn't really that abnormal for a fox to be up at night, but for one used to rising in the morning to go to university classes, it was something best avoided whenever possible. The sad truth was that most nocturnal species had to adjust their natural sleep schedules to fit the norm for Zootopian society.

This paper had to be done, though, and it had to be done soon. She'd been very lucky to get into such a prestigious law school as the one she'd start attending next week in Mamphis, and the requirements had been made very clear to her. She, along with every other student in Professor Fisher's class, were expected to bring a full research paper on an old court case. They were allowed to do their research on any case, the bigger the better, but it couldn't be something that had made front-page news in _any_ paper.

Therefore, it was definitely _not_ a good day for her to be woken by a sharp knock on the door at… _Holy shit, a quarter to three already?_ With a loud groan, the vixen turned over and pulled her thick comforter over her head, hoping whoever it was would just go away. She didn't care who it was, she didn't care what time it was, she was staying in bed.

Unfortunately, the knocker at the door didn't get that memo, because ten seconds later it came again. Samantha shook her head, praying that she was just imagining the interruption to her much-needed sleep and that through the power of denial she could realize she was actually still dreaming. No such luck, as after a brief pause, the knock came once more, this time accompanied by a voice.

"Come on Sam," the vaguely familiar call came, muffled by the walls and comforter over her head. "I know you're home, you've still got the same car and it's parked right here." _Is that Nick? What's he doing here?_ But no… Something was off. There was something about the voice that didn't quite fit Nick.

With a low growl, she pushed up from the bed, pulled the thick blanket away and trudged out of her bedroom, across the living room to the door. She pulled the chain, flipped the deadbolt and turned the knob, and opened it just enough to peek out. When she saw the grinning vulpine face inches away, she murmured, "What the hell, Ji-"

She cut herself short when she realized exactly who it was standing there. With an ecstatic exclamation of, "Jimmy!" she threw the door open and rushed out to give her brother a tight hug. She'd been expecting it to be Nick, who typically stopped by roughly once a month. Instead, here was the sibling she hadn't seen in over half a decade, since he'd shipped out to basic training. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"Mooching off my sister, obviously," James answered with a smirk, and stepped aside to indicate a rather skeptical-looking tree squirrel behind him. "This is Donnie, formerly First Lieutenant Treever, he'd like to crash here a few nights too, if that's alright."

"Yeah, sure, of course, but… Not really what I asked," Samantha murmured, stepping back so the two could come in through the door. She had a quaint little house, not much but nice for the neighborhood. Six-hundred square feet, two bedrooms, one bath, a living room and a small kitchen, more than enough for a fox. Mostly covered on her scholarship, the rest taken care of by her dad. In the yard it had a real estate sign with a little plaque on top that read 'In Escrow'. It'd be pretty unreasonable for her to keep the place when she planned to spend four years in Mamphis for law school, and this meant she got to go there with an extra $40,000 in the bank, more than enough to get a decent flat downtown.

"Yeah, I know. 'What am I doing here', right?" James went across the living room to the sofa and dropped down on it. "Hey, if I had any idea where Nick was staying, I'd be there. But I'm guessing wherever it is, it's a parked van with flame decals on it. He's still in it with Finnick, yeah?"

"Yeah," Samantha murmured, shaking her head. "Think they're renting a place in the Canals right now. Saw Finn's van there a few times in the last month. So… Why not mom and dad's? You _know_ where they live."

"Yeah, I do. Of course I do. But, ah..." James paused, rubbing the back of his head. This was a conversation he'd been hoping to avoid. "I spent seventeen years being a burden to them, it wouldn't feel right showing up there and asking them to support me again."

"So instead you show up here," Samantha rolled her eyes. She looked to Donnie, who'd taken the chair in the corner and was just idly staring out the window. "Plus one," she added. The vixen looked down at her brother, showing some concern. "But come on, Jimmy, they're your parents. _Our_ parents. You know as well as I do they never considered any of us a burden."

"Well, that's between me and them, I guess. A bridge to cross when I get there. But don't worry, I won't be long. Just a couple weeks in the city, I think, then I'm gonna see the world."

"Living your dream, huh?" Samantha murmured. She stepped back from the sofa and moved toward her bedroom. On the way, she stopped and looked down at an old picture on the table. Five foxes, two adult and three teenage kits. It was the last picture their whole family had taken together.

"Whatever," she called back over her shoulder, "Crash here a while, just don't mess anything up. And don't wake me again." With that, she stepped into her room and shut the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Top Chef Z

* * *

" _...Sebastian Carvell, fourteen-year reigning champion, against rising competitor Miles Cicero."_ The sound of 'Top Chef Z' played in the background, a constant contrast to Jame's quiet counting.

"Two-fifty-three… Two-fifty-four..." The red fox had situated himself behind the couch, feet spread, body straight and rigid, holding himself up on one arm with the other held behind his back.

" _Over the last few months, we've seen Miles rise from total obscurity to one of the most ingenious cooks ever to grace our cameras."_ Donnie sat on the sofa, focused on the screen with rapt attention. It showed a grizzled old walrus to one side, opposite a much younger boar, grinning at the cameras with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Two-sixty-six… Two-sixty-seven..." James wasn't actually moving, but rather counting seconds. He'd found that one-handed push-ups were entirely impractical, while one-handed planks, held for five minutes on each hand, could actually be an incredible way to tone the core.

" _It may very well be that Miles' journey ends here, though. In a decade-and-a-half, none have come close to dethroning Master Chef Carvell, and it has just been revealed that the theme for tonight's trial will be sea food. This is, of course, Sebastian's specialty."_ James had asked Donnie once why he was so obsessed with cooking shows. The tree squirrel's only answer was, "When I'm rich, I wanna know where to eat," and the fox had left it at that.

"Two-ninety-nine… Three-hundred," James finished, then placed his other hand on the floor, brought his first hand behind his back, and started counting again. "One… Two… Three..."

The door to Samantha's bedroom opened, and at what she found to be a very strange sight in the living room, the vixen rolled her eyes. James had been there six days now; on his second day there, she'd asked her brother why he kept up with his fitness regimen. He'd explained that a medic, more than anyone else, was expected to be able to carry an injured mammal off the battlefield. In his fourth month at basic training, near the end, he'd surprised everyone by lifting a Siberian husky, easily boasting twenty-five pounds on him, over his shoulders and running three laps around the track. Granted, his legs shook when he walked the rest of the day, but it had been worth it to see the look on his Drill Sergeant's face.

When she'd asked why he _still_ kept up his fitness regimen, he'd responded that after working out twice a week for six years, it just felt right. James was by no means bulky, though, even for a fox. For his apparent strength, he still appeared remarkably lean, until one pushed under his fur to feel muscles like braided steel. _That_ was worth it because of the shock and excitement he'd see on a vixen's face when he lifted her off the ground with one arm.

"The boar's got this," Samantha remarked after a glance at the TV screen. Donnie quickly stood up on the cushion and turned to look at the vixen over the back of the sofa.

"How do you know?" he asked. He glanced back at the TV, then to Samantha again, and added, "I mean, you're right, of course, but how do you know? I thought you didn't watch cooking shows."

Samantha shrugged and answered, "I don't. But you know Jimmy, you should get it. Us Wildes can read mammals like a book." She moved over to the back of the couch, leaned on it and pointed to the screen. "Confidence. That's all it is. The boar has no doubt on his face. He already _knows_ he's gonna win. The walrus, however..." She indicated the reigning champ. "He's got doubt. He's worried. He has the look of someone who's spent years at this and can't think of anything with all that experience that can get him through it. He's already lost."

"One-twelve, one-thirteen, one-fourteen…" came the steady counting from the floor. Donnie glanced down at him, and rolled his eyes. _Show-off._ He looked back up to Samantha and asked, "Anything else run in the family?"

"Not polyamory, if that's what you're asking," she answered with a chuckle. "I'm afraid my brother's a total misfit in that regard. A hopeless scoundrel, an outcast from the higher reaches of vulpine society," she joked. "But I still love 'im." She grinned, then pushed away from the couch and headed for the door. "Now, I've been told I _have_ to have a night out before I move away, so I'll be back… Probably some time pretty late. Please don't destroy my place while I'm out, my escrow hasn't closed yet."

"What do you take me for?" James grunted from his spot on the floor. "One-forty-three, one-forty-four..."

Samantha rolled her eyes once more, and stepped out the door, leaving the question unanswered. A couple seconds later, they heard her car start and pull out onto the road. Donnie turned back around and sat down to watch his show. _"It looks like Sebastian is going for a classic dish of lobster bisque with red pepper, and scallop risotto… While Miles seems to be preparing smoked swordfish with Alaskan king crab au gratin. My mouth is already watering, and I can only wish I were a judge for this event."_

"Damn, they get swordfish?" James asked from behind the couch. "Two-ten, two-eleven… I wish _I_ was a judge there. Two-fourteen..."

"Guarantee Cicero's getting a restaurant deal out of this. Five-stars for sure, right in the middle of uptown Savannah Central, I'd bet." James had sampled enough of the squirrel's cooking to know why Donnie was so obsessed with these cooking shows. The fox wouldn't trust his friend to occupy a kitchen for more than a minute without setting the dishwasher on fire, but when it came to eating the food, Donnie was an expert. Given the right outlet to publicize his knowledge, the little guy could be a food connoisseur for sure. As long as someone else prepared the meal, and paid for it.

"Two-eighty-nine, two-ninety..." Beads of sweat were dripping down James' brow, around his neck and under his arms, occasionally dropping from the fur on his bare chest. He'd set to the task of core endurance as soon as he'd got back from his morning run. Taking a break in-between would've let his heart rate slow, and would've made this a much harder task to complete.

"Two-ninety-eight, two-ninety-nine… Got it." He let his knees drop, and slowly pushed up into a kneeling position. He grabbed his discarded shirt and used it like a towel, wiped his brow and the back of his neck, before standing up. "I'll be in the shower. Call for me if the house explodes," he requested, tossing his damp shirt into the laundry hamper on his way down the hall.

Donnie's only response was to wave a paw that, of course, James wouldn't see, but that didn't matter to the squirrel because his cooking show was in full-swing. Since Samantha had remarked on the walrus' apparent nerves, Donnie was noticing a few things were off about how the champ was cooking. He didn't seem to grind the red peppers quite fine enough, the scallops seemed to Donnie to be overcooked, while the rice was probably slightly undercooked… And the boar was doing everything just right. Individually, those minor flaws probably would've gone unnoticed, but together they might be enough to determine this competition on their own.

Donnie's attention was broken by a knock on the door. He ignored it at first, but then it came again, and he figured whoever it was must have some actual business here. Might be Samantha's real estate agent, or the buyers, or… Well, any number of people. He knew pretty much nothing about the vixen other than she had a nice house and she was Jimmy's brother.

Letting out a little groan of disappointment, the squirrel pushed off the sofa and quickly moved to the door, reached up and opened it and was greeted by the spitting image of James in a tacky Pawaiian shirt. After his initial surprise passed, he cleared his throat, and remarked, "Take it you're Nick?"

"Nice guess, Shortstop," the red fox answered without pause, and grinned down at the squirrel. "I'll just go ahead and assume you're one of Sam's friends. That girl keeps the strangest company," he remarked, and slipped right past Donnie and into the house.

Donnie felt no reason to correct the newcomer on his assumption. He'd find out soon enough anyway, and it'd be more interesting if he didn't spoil the surprise. Instead, he shrugged, closed the door, and went back to the couch. Nick went right to the kitchen and opened the door, pulled out a carton of orange juice and took a quick swig. "Sounds like she's in the shower," he murmured as he put the juice back in the fridge and closed the door.

" _And it appears the chefs have finished, and are serving out their dishes,"_ the announcer stated. Donnie watched as two trays were loaded up with five plates each, and brought over to a panel of five mammals, each with two sets of silverware set on the table before them. As soon as all five were served, they set in.

The sound of running water down the hall stopped, and the sound of a sliding glass door was followed by a series of light shuffling noises.

" _It looks like our judges are now tallying their scores… Submitting them into the computer..."_ A screen directly above Sebastian Carvell's station lit up, showing a number. _"And that's nine-point-six out of ten for Carvell! That will be very hard to beat!"_ Donnie watched with rapt anticipation as the last two judges finished their dishes from the boar's tray, and punched in their numbers. A drumroll sounded for effect, and after a couple moment's pause, Miles Cicero's screen lit up. _"And a perfect ten for Miles Cicero! Unbelievable! Ladies and Gentlemammals, Zootopia has a new Top Chef! Give it up for Miles Cicero!"_

From the TV, the sound of a cheering audience could be heard, but in the house, not a word was said, because the bathroom door had just opened, and for the first time in six years, James and Nicholas Wilde had come face-to-face.


End file.
